


Baby It's Cold Outside

by musicalsmarvelandmore



Series: 12 Days of Sprace Christmas One-Shots [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Snow, Song Lyrics, Song: Baby It's Cold Outside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:40:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28080057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalsmarvelandmore/pseuds/musicalsmarvelandmore
Summary: Race is in Brooklyn, and Spot tries convince him to stay just a little bit longer while snow fall outside.
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Series: 12 Days of Sprace Christmas One-Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057091
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Baby It's Cold Outside

Race got up from Spot’s bunk, grinning down at the other boy as he pulled on his coat. It wasn’t much, not nearly enough to cope with the cold winters of New York, but it was enough, and that had to count for something.

It was nearly Christmastime, the first one that the boys would spend together as a more or less official couple, even if they hadn’t actually told anyone about their relationship yet. December in New York could be a dangerous time for newsies, as they needed to stay warm and safe, but even with all the extra stress in both boroughs, Race and Spot were able to handle it. Still, even with all the extra stress, came the anticipation in the air at the thought of Christmas. They might not have money, but they had family, and that was what Christmastime was all about.

Spot groaned, opening his eyes to see where the warm figure that had been curled up at his side had gone. At the sight of Race dressing to leave, the boy frowned. “Hey, baby, where is you goin’?

“I really can’t stay,” Race said, as his fingers fumbled to do up the coat around him.

Spot yawned. “But baby, it’s cold outside.”

“I’ve got to go away.”

“But baby, it’s cold outside,” Spot said, his face near a scowl at this point, but he would never actually scowl at Racer like that.

“This evening has been-“ Race started, his cheeks turning red even as Spot interrupted him.

“I’m so happy you dropped in,” Spot said, his voice deep as he stared at the boy he was in love with.

It wasn’t exactly planned, per se, that Race came by. Technically, their relationship was a secret, though newsies on both sides of the Brooklyn river, and hell, probably all of New York, knew that the two boys were close. They were just a little closer than anyone else knew.

But when Sheepshead closed early in anticipation of the upcoming storm, Race took full advantage of the opportunity to track down Spot, and then the pair of them rushed to Brooklyn lodging for a rare afternoon alone.

Now, it was starting to get late. The sun set so early in the winter, and with the cold outside, many of Spot’s newsies had already made their way back, though being the king of Brooklyn did have some advantages, including his own room, no matter how small it might be.

“So very nice,” Race finished, even as his entire face was blushing.

Spot reached up and grabbed one of Race’s hands, pulling him back down to his bunk. “I’ll hold your hands. They’re just like ice.”

The boy grabbed Race’s other hand, before squeezing his boyfriend’s hands as he smiled back at him. Spot didn’t smile this pure very often, and almost all of these smiles were reserved exclusively for Racetrack Higgins.

Race cleared his throat, but didn’t make a move to pull his hands back. “Jack will start to worry.”

“Beautiful, what’s your hurry?” Spot smiled, looking up at his boyfriend.

“Al will be pacing the floor.”

“Listen to the fireplace roar,” Spot joked, causing Race to roll his eyes and pull his hands away, as he jammed his newsboy cap on his head. Sure, that wouldn’t actually do much to keep out the cold, especially on the long walk across the Brooklyn bridge, but it was still something.

“So really, I’d better scurry.”

Spot sighed. “Beautiful, please don’t hurry.”

In Spot’s opinion, any extra minute with his boyfriend was definitely worth it, even if he was extremely close to begging right now.

Race relented. “Well, maybe just half a drink more.”

Spot grinned at the small victory. Sure, Race probably meant water, but this was a special occasion. Any moment that was able to just be the two of them, no pretending, was a special occasion, so he grabbed the bottle, saying to Racer behind him, “Sing me a song while I pour.”

Race scooted farther back on the bed, wriggling to get into a more comfortable position, before frowning at a thought. “The Brooklyn boys might think-“ before he stopped. Did Brooklyn newsies really think all that much about anything? Still, it felt like they were being obvious, which was dangerous. As it was, people already assumed that Race was Spot’s weakness, and they were right. They didn’t need to make these things worse.

“But baby, it’s bad out there.”

Race nodded, still dressed to leave with his cap and coat, but not from where he was perched on Spot’s bed. He didn’t know what to think, but he took the offered drink from Spot’s outstretched hand. He took a drink. “Say, what’s in this drink?”, not expecting the tang of the alcohol but appreciating it nonetheless, to warm up a little even in the frigid weather.

“It’s a long walk back to Hattan Lodging, and there ain’t no carriages to be had out there.”

As Spot stared into his boyfriend’s eyes, he continued. “Your eyes are like starlit sin,” and Spot had never been so sure about anything that he had ever said in his whole life, because Race was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Race sighed, even as he grinned at Spot. “I seem to be in some kinda crazy spell.”

Spot grinned, hopefully in victory, reaching for Race’s newsboy cap and plucking it off from his head. “I’ll take your hat. Your hair looks swell.”

Race was stuck between the fact that his boyfriend, the most feared newsie in all of New York and also a romantic, and that he really needed to be heading back to Manhattan before it got to be too late. “I ought to say no, no, no.”

Spot sat down on the bed, sliding closer to Race, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Ya mind if I move in closer?”

Very clearly, Racetrack Higgins did not mind, not one bit. Maybe he should be far more responsible, but he wasn’t in general, especially when it came to Brooklyn, particularly one Spot Conlon. “At least I’m gonna say that I tried.” It wouldn’t be the first time he’d lied to Jack Kelly over Spot Conlon. Maybe he got caught up in something in Brooklyn he couldn’t get out of. In fact, that was kind of exactly what happened.

Spot pulled Race in close, murmuring, “Baby, make my conscious your guide,” before their lips met.

It was definitely cold outside, but that definitely wasn’t the reason Race stayed, or even because of Spot’s begging. He wanted to be there.

It was a little later. Instead of late afternoon drifting into early evening, it was most definitely evening. From Spot’s little window in the corner, the night sky was dark and still.

Race sighed, getting ready to go, again. It wasn’t that he regretted it. He loved Spot, and it was definitely worth any potential bit of trouble that Race might get into because of this, but still. Race didn’t live in Brooklyn. That might be for a lot of reasons, but still. The most important one was that Manhattan lodging was his home, through and through. He was second in command for a reason, and all of those boys were his brothers. Sure, he might get along with a majority of the Brooklyn boys, and spent a lot of time with them, all things considered, but still. He had to get heading back home, no matter how long the walk was going to take.

“Baby, come back,” Spot said from the bed, reaching up towards his boyfriend, ready to pull him back down at his side.

“But I simply must go.” It was getting far too late to keep on pushing off his inevitable departure any longer.

“But baby,” Spot said. If it had been anyone beside Spot Conlon saying that, then it honestly would have been considered a whine. “It’s cold outside.”

“The answer is no,” Race said, trying to be firm. Sure, he might be irresponsible, but this was totally unfair. He really needed to do the right thing, even when he wanted to rejoin Spot in bed.

“But baby, it’s cold outside.”

“Your welcome has been-” Race started, even as Spot tried to ignore those platitudes to try to convince his boyfriend to come back to bed.

“‘M so lucky you dropped in.”

“-So nice and warm,” Race finished, trying to stay focused on pulling on his boots and doing up the laces, instead of looking at Spot’s face. This was totally unfair. Race was so close to just giving up on that idea, but he had to be smarter than this, even though he typically was just a complete dumbass. But that wasn’t the point here.

Spot sighed, as he gestured to the tiny window, a luxury in a room as small as his was. “Look out the window at the storm.”

Maybe, if Race had left earlier, he actually would have been able to miss the majority of the snow, but as it was now, large snowflakes were falling fast, already covering the city streets. It would be absolutely horrible to try to walk to, and honestly, even if they weren’t together, Spot still wouldn’t want Race trying to make his way back across the bridge in weather like this. It just wasn’t safe, not for anyone who Spot actually cared about.

“Romeo will be suspicious.”

And Romeo would be suspicious. Sure, Race had thought that the pair of them had done a decent job of hiding that things had changed in the relationship between them, but that wasn’t even the point. Romeo read far too much into everything, which was annoying when things weren’t there, but now, trying to keep a secret, it just seemed like a bad idea.

“Gosh, your lips are delicious,” Spot said, pulling his boyfriend down into a kiss.

Race fell into the kiss. When he pulled away from his boyfriend, he regretted it instantly, but still, it wasn’t as though there were actually any good answers here. “Mush will be there at the door.”

“Waves upon the tropical shore,” Spot sighed, grinning at his boyfriend. He knew he was close to convincing Race to stay, even though he wasn’t quite sure how he was going to be able to bring it all home.

“Crutchie’s mind is vicious.”

“Gosh, your lips are delicious,” Spot repeated, wagging his eyebrows at Race.

Race sighed, pulling out his cigar to light it. “But maybe, just a few puffs of my cigar more.”

“Never seen such a blizzard before,” Spot wheedled, and that was saying something, considering that both boys had lived through the 1888 blizzard, the worst blizzard that anyone was able to remember. They had both been so young then. Ten years had passed since then, but the two of them were friends then, and they were definitely a lot more than friends now.

“I’ve gotta get home,” Race said, as he took a drag on his cigar.

“But baby,” Spot said, grabbing Race’s hand. Race easily went with the motion, sitting back on the bunk pressed up close against Spot. “you’d freeze out there.”

Race sighed, running a hand back through his hair, his cap still sitting next to Spot’s bed where the other boy had put it earlier. “Say, lend me a comb.”

Spot ignored the request. “It’s up to your knees out there,” he said, partially jesting but also serious. While that may have been a slight exaggeration, it might not be so by the time that Race actually was able to make it back to his lodging house. Sure, he may have just wanted some more time with his boyfriend earlier, but he had no idea how bad the weather was going to get. At this point, it was just a smart idea for Race to spend the night.

Race sighed, putting one arm around his boyfriend and pulling the other boy in close. He grabbed one of Spot’s hands with one of his own, squeezing it. “You’ve really been grand,” he said, his voice hardly more than a murmur.

“I thrill when you touch my hand,” Spot said, keeping his own voice low as well, as Race tried to ignore what the other boy did to him.

“But don’t you see?” Race said, not wanting to pull away quite yet, but also serious, ignoring what he actually wanted to spend this time doing.

“How can you do this thing to me?” Spot asked, his voice raw and real. Racer meant so much to him, and he always would. Race was the only person who Spot had ever really tried for, regardless of whether that might actually be fair.

“There’s bound to be talk tomorrow,” Race said, and he was right. Of course there would be. No one gossiped like a bunch of teenage boys, especially if they were mostly stuck inside because of the storm and unable to get any other news or rumors to spread instead.

But honestly, Spot didn’t care anymore. Most people probably suspected anyway. It wasn’t like they were ever great at hiding things, either of them. Besides, he wanted to protect Race, and the best way to do that was to keep the other boy here. “Think of my lifelong sorrow-“

Race interrupted him this time. “At least, there will be plenty implied.”

Spot ignored the idea of those implications because right now, that was acceptable enough. “-If you caught pneumonia and died.”

Spot’s voice cracked at the end of that, at the thought of having to live life without the best thing that had ever happened to him, in his entire life, ever since Spot was very small. It had always been the two of them, as one team. Both of their brothers, in both boroughs, already knew this. If things went farther, well, maybe it was time.

Race sighed, but he had already given up the thought of leaving, as he took off his shoes. “I really can’t stay.”

Spot grinned at him, the two boys still pressed closely up against each other. “Get over that old doubt.”

If there was one thing that Christmas was about, then it was hope. There wasn’t room for doubt anymore, and the two of them were going to be just fine, as long as they stayed together.

**Author's Note:**

> To celebrate the holiday season, I am attempting to write and post 12 Christmas/other holiday one shots in the next twelve days, with the last posted on Christmas Day. I honestly haven't planned most of them, so no promises in format, length, or content, though I'm sure there will be whump since it is me writing this.


End file.
